Chapter 7: Wed

Thursday night, he wrote Millie a long letter. She had been cleaning his apartment on Friday mornings for a couple of years, although they hardly ever met in person. If Candy was going to take on the household chores, she wouldn’t need Millie. He told her that February first was her last day. He described Candy and said that she had a key and might drop in. He enclosed a check for seven weeks, including four of severance.

When he picked Candy up for their date, she was dressed to the nines. Well, he would take her to a restaurant worthy of that dress, if not quite worthy of the beauty of the woman gracing that dress. Manfredo’s required reservations. He would take her to the top restaurant of a hotel. Their own guests never made reservations, so restaurants in hotels never required them.

She glowed in the formal ambience, and the meal went well, too. They had a glass of wine each. That much wine wouldn’t put him near the DUI limit. She was animated when he drove her home.

She stopped him when he reached for her outside her door. What happened to the woman who wanted to be kissed all the time? “Come in, instead.” Okay, she had decided to be kissed in comfort. Her parents were there, and he greeted them while she took care of her coat upstairs.

“What’s this about holding the reception in the church?” her mother asked. “Will they serve food, or do we need to find a caterer?”

“We usually get take-out food. Church meals are potlucks, and that doesn’t go with a wedding reception.”

“I can’t figure it out.”

“Do you want me to take care of it, then?” When he asked Bill to be his best man, he would ask him to pick up the food, too.

“Are you willing?”

“Sure.” That was an echo of Candy. “I know the places around Evanston.”

Candy came downstairs and led him into the kitchen. She told him to put his coats on a chair, and they had a long, sweet kiss. He was listening for footsteps in the hall while he held her marvelous breasts again. Even though her parents stayed where they were, it wasn’t as nice as complete privacy was. That didn’t limit his arousal, though, and he was glad that he had his coat to cover his groin before he returned to the living room.

Saturday, he called Bill to ask him to be best man.

“Sure. 3:00 you say?”

“Yeah. That’s when the service starts. It might save my nerves if you were a little early. Candy isn’t trying for a fancy wedding gown, so I figured that you and I would do well in suits.”

“I’m sure. I was the only one who wore a monkey suit at my wedding. Dan not only wore a suit, but a professor’s suit.”

“Look, I told Candy’s family that I’d provide the food at the reception. If I order it and pay for it, can you pick it up after the service?”

“Sure. Cake, too?”

“Damn, I forgot that.”

“The bride is the one that’s supposed to get nervous.”

“Yeah. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Early onset Alzheimer’s.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Any time.”

“Well, assume that I’ll order a cake and will tell you where to get it. Do you have a recommendation?”

“Not from personal experience. Carolyn’s family didn’t want it to be dry. We went downtown.”

“Yeah. I should have remembered.” And that was the recurring theme of that time; he should have remembered. He did remember to pick up Candy on Sunday, though. Despite all the things that were slipping his mind, he never forgot her. Indeed, when he forgot other things, it was because he was thinking about her.

She looked gorgeous when she opened the door to him on Sunday morning, and he told her so. When he got into the car beside her, they kissed.

“Look, two things,” he said when he had the car moving. “Today is coffee hour again. Second, have you thought about inviting the church?”

“They won’t expect something fancy?” No, they knew him, and nobody who knew him associated him with something fancy.

“Not really. I’ve been to receptions in the church parlors. They bring in food from local restaurants.”

“But the wedding service?”

“It will be out of the standard book that Methodist preachers use. They’ve seen long white trains and flower girls. They’ve seen ordinary clothes.” She was responding to the ‘fancy church wedding’ model, and that was his fault, not hers. He had never expressed his, Aldersgate’s really, model. “You want to be part of the church, don’t you?”

“Very much.”

“Well when Aldersgate members get married to each other, everybody looks on.” He was putting that too strongly.

“Okay.”

“Well, it won’t be everybody.” He needed to correct his statement. “The kids don’t usually come, and others give it a pass, but it’s one thing to be invited and give it a pass, and it’s another thing to not be invited.”

“I said ‘okay.’” Yeah. She had.

“The reason I ask today is that I’d like to issue the invitation at coffee hour.”

“Why not?”

“And this time, maybe, it would be better if we don’t split up.”

“Yeah. I can see that. You were right the first time, though.”

After the service they went into coffee hour and sat with Carolyn, Bill, and the boys. When the rattle of plates died down, he spoke to Candy.

“Get up with me.” She did, and he took her left hand. “You’ve all seen this,” he said loudly. He showed her hand with the ring. “Candy and I are getting married. The wedding is in nearly two weeks. Saturday, February second. It’s at three p.m., and it’s in the sanctuary. You’re all invited.”

There was a scattering of applause. Before they sat down, he took Candy around the room and everybody said nice things. Well, every adult but Claire. She got up and gave Candy a silent hug. They sat down and finished their coffee and cookies.

When people started to leave, he led Candy down the hall to the church library. They had a nice kiss with his foot blocking the door. He needn’t have bothered, as nobody tried to get in.

They went to Maria’s Pantry for the meal afterwards, and Candy finished her ravioli. It wasn’t a huge serving, but it was the only solid food that he’d seen her actually finish. She declined dessert, however, citing the cookies she’d had at the coffee hour. While they were there, he gave her the figures on income, his expenses, and what would be family expenses -- rent, car, that sort of thing. She gave him her list of her expenses.

She was going to wait in his apartment for the deliveryman Monday, and he gave her the money for the tip when they were back in the car. He didn’t like to wave money around in a public place.

“They’ll probably set up the bed when they deliver it. If not, leave it. I don’t want you doing heavy lifting. Anyway, if they do give them the 20. If they don’t, give them the single. Don’t offer them the 20 if they’ll put up the bed. Anyway...” But there wasn’t anything further to say. He started the car and drove her home. They had a sweet kiss outside her door, but she didn’t invite him in.

Monday, when he got home, the place smelled better than it ever had. Food smells wafted from the kitchen. Candy came towards him.

“Well!” He reached for her.

“Take your coat off first.” That was sensible. She felt much better against him when he wasn’t wearing a coat. He hung both the parka and the suit coat in the closet. She was warm and soft and arousing against him as he explored her mouth with his tongue and her seat with his hands.

“I gather,” he said when he came up for air, “that you didn’t want to go out for dinner.”

“You said to make myself at home.” Well, yes, but he hadn’t meant for her to cook for him. On the other hand, this was a delightful foreshadowing of their marriage.

“I meant for your convenience, but that smells delicious. Did the bed come all right?”

“Yeah, but the sheets didn’t.” Damn! The sheets hadn’t come because he hadn’t bought any, and, of course, twin sheets -- top sheets, too, but especially fitted bottom sheets -- didn’t work on a double bed.

“Damn! I should have thought of that.”

“So should I.” That didn’t follow. She was always blaming herself.

“Why? You didn’t know what I had.” Now, she might have been at fault for being so distracting that he couldn’t get his act together, but she wasn’t at fault for not knowing what sheets he had in his linen supply.

“Is there a place to buy them before it closes?” Now, that was the right question. And, yes, they could get to Sears. Sears would have sheets. Or should he go alone?

“Yeah. Can you leave the dinner?”

“Easily. Let’s go.” She was starting to take charge, and that was fortunate. At Sears she selected several sets of sheets and a blanket. They would need another pillow, too, and they bought that. She got another couple of pillowcases, although his old ones would still work.

After a short time kissing, she broke to return to the kitchen. He made the bed with the new sheets and blanket. He put old -- but washed -- pillow cases on both pillows. Then he went to the kitchen for another kiss.

“Where is your calendar?” Candy wasn’t in the mood for kisses. She was too busy being a chef. He pointed to the calendar hanging on the wall. She giggled. “No, silly, a colander, to drain the spaghetti.” He heard the difference in pronunciation the second time, but he didn’t know what she was talking about otherwise.

When she figured out that he really didn’t know what she meant, she had him pour the water out of the pot in which she had boiled the spaghetti. She held the lid on so that only the water got out. Then she used tongs to remove the spaghetti. When the only noodles left were swimming around, they did it again.

The meal was delicious, and he told her so. When it was over, they cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher together. Although she didn’t have to cook for him, he appreciated the togetherness. It felt like they were a married couple.

After that, though, they were a pair of teenagers. They went from kissing standing to kissing with her in his lap. His hands went everywhere, and she didn’t make even a pro forma protest.

Then, he had to take her home. Well, in two more weeks, he wouldn’t. When they were here, she would be home. They still, however, had to get through those two weeks.

“Look,” he asked her on the way to her family’s house, “dates Wednesday and Friday nights?”

“Sure.” Right then, Candy’s usual unenthusiastic acceptance felt right. Of course they were going to go out together.

“Let’s skip this 6:00 bit. I’ll come right after work. I’ll aim for 5:30, but don’t put on your coat ‘til I ring the bell.”

And those nights he took her to movies after the restaurants. They sat with his arm around her. He didn’t reach for her breast, partially because they had more nearly private -- although not totally private -- time when he picked her up and after he walked her to the door. When they were in the kitchen, her parents stayed away.

Sunday, he picked her up as usual. They sat close, but not touching, in church. Claire was in the same pew and said that there was something wrong with her car. He offered her a ride home. The weather being fair and not too cold, Candy and Claire decided to walk with him to the car instead of his coming back to pick them up. They were among the last to shake Rev. Lawrence’s hand leaving the church.

“Rehearsal Friday night?” Rev. Lawrence asked Candy. Well, he’d heard vaguely about wedding rehearsals. He hadn’t thought about it in relation to them.

“Um, sure. Claire? Can you make it?” Claire had shaken Rev. Lawrence’s hand just before Candy did.

“Yeah. Do you want me to tell Joan?”

“Could you? I quite forgot about the rehearsal.” So he wasn’t the only one.

“That’s all right. It’s your first wedding. It’s not my first, not even my hundredth.” Now, Rev. Lawrence turned to him. “And you host the rehearsal dinner. Is 7:00 a good time?” He looked at Candy, who didn’t seem to have any objections.

“Okay. We’ll call you if there is a problem.” They all went down the stairs, and he pointed Claire towards the car. “If Mom, Dad, and Rachel can’t come, it will be Friday night, not 7 p.m., which is the problem.”

They drove Claire to the residence for woman grad students. When he started towards the restaurant, he turned his attention to their immediate future.

“Well, we won’t have a date Friday night.”

“Or we’ll have a different kind of date.” Well, it wasn’t what he thought of as a date.

“Are Monday and Wednesday all right?” He didn’t want to seem to be taking her for granted. Still, he thought that the week before the wedding an assumption of a standing date wasn’t out of line.

“Sure.” They ate at a different Chinese restaurant. Again, they kissed at her door, but she didn’t invite him in. She evidently thought that Sundays were different from dates.

Back home, he made three phone calls. Bill wasn’t surprised by Friday night. He suggested the Milano’s back room for the rehearsal dinner.

“They don’t take large crowds, but a dozen can eat there without feeling lost.”

“Thanks.” He got the answering machine at Mom and Dad’s. He tried Rachel.

“Hello.” Stan sounded excited.

“Stan? It’s Uncle Eric.”

“Hi.” He was much less excited, now. This wasn’t the phone call he wanted.

“Is your mother there?”

“Sure. Mom, it’s Uncle Eric.” The last sentence was shouted, but Stan had taken the phone away from his mouth, so it came over the phone at less volume than the first. The rap of the phone being set down, and then a wait.

“Eric?”

“Rachel. There’s been a slight change in plans.”

“She’s thrown you over.”

“No. Slighter than that. There is a rehearsal the night before. It’s at 7:00, and I’d like you to be there. I called Mom and Dad, but I got the answering machine. Anyway, I’d like you to be there, but I could understand if you couldn’t. I don’t know what you’d have to rehearse, anyway. But that might be my ignorance. I don’t know what I’d have to rehearse, either.”

“Well, they’ll tell you. Has anyone told you to buy your bride a bouquet?”

“No. Well, not ‘til now. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I hope she’s a good manager; you need someone to manage you, and I’m too far away.” That was a dig, but it was too close to the truth for him to try to dig back.

“I left a message on Dad’s machine. I’ll call tonight. Talk to them, okay?”

“I’m not the one who doesn’t talk to them. Long distance isn’t that expensive, you know.”

“I mean about this.”

“Well, you didn’t talk to them about this, either. No, ‘I’ve met a nice girl.’ Boom, the first news is that you’re getting married, and that’s in a letter. And I had to learn from them.” Well, there was no reason writing duplicate letters to Rachel and Mom. Anything he wrote one would be told the other.

“So, I’m a bad son.”

“And a bad brother.”

“And, apparently, a bad uncle. Stan used to like to talk to me.”

“That, for once, isn’t your fault.” From Rachel, this was a great concession. “He’s going through another phase. I asked about his going, and he’s not interested. He’s not interested in much, right now, and what he is interested in he’s not telling me.” That sounded familiar. Some interests you don’t share with your parents, especially not your mother.

“Maybe my birthday gift should be a subscription to Playboy.”

“Don’t you dare ... You think that’s it?”

“Well, he’s a little young.” He hadn’t seen Stan for a couple of years, but it wasn’t that long. Stan was still 12, not a teenager yet.

He looked a florist up in the Yellow Pages. They were open Saturdays, not surprising since he’d reached them on Sunday, and he could stop in Friday to select a bouquet which he could pick up Saturday. That was one thing he didn’t have to ask Bill about. Well, Rachel and Bill told him privately; the pastor blurted it out in front of an audience. He now understood polygamy. If you went through this a couple of times, you’d know what you were doing.

If Candy’s figures were accurate, she would add to his costs less than he would save on parking and cleaning services. Of course, she wasn’t counting buying maternity clothes -- let alone the costs of a baby.

Monday, he was paired with Bob. The judge, Goldberg, had been a prosecutor -- before Eric’s time -- and was a dream to appear before. The lunch break was generous, and he got to Carson’s again and bought a fancy set of towels. They could probably live with the ones he had, but his only matched sets were a little worn. Again, he left when court let out, and he got to Candy’s house shortly before 5:15. Her mother returned to the kitchen, and he and Candy kissed until her father got home. They went to a movie and then to the Pho place again.

He could depend on others to remind him of what was needed for the wedding. After that, though, he was going to be starting a marriage, and Candy didn’t have any more experience there than he did. Well, she would need cash. Then, too, he was going to leave her the car. Well, the cash he could provide. While he was getting the cash at Northern Trust on his lunch hour, Tuesday, he got the forms for putting her on the account. She would need to be on other accounts, too. He paid most of his bills with credit cards. Well, he’d send for those which weren’t local. That night he typed up and signed a paper saying that Candace/Candy Wharton/Stewart had his permission to drive the car. In the morning, he put it in the glove compartment next to the registration.

Wednesday, he didn’t leave the office until 5:30. Figuring that anybody in the office might have seen Candy there, he decided that he wouldn’t invite any of them to the wedding. When he picked up Candy, she wasn’t dressed for anything fancy. He took her to the first Chinese place in Evanston again. While there, he handed her an envelope with the cash and told her they would talk later.

“You still have your car keys?” he asked while they were walking to the car.

“Yeah.”

“Feel confident about driving tonight?”

“Yeah.” She didn’t sound confident, but Candy never did. She got in the driver’s side, though, and he got in the passenger side.

“Drive me to the apartment. Do you know the way?” He gave her some directions, but she sort of knew Evanston by now.

“Look, why don’t you take the car now? I have papers in the glove compartment saying that you have my permission to drive the car in case you are stopped. The envelope I gave you is some cash. You spent a little for groceries already. This is money for what you think the household needs. Some of it is in singles, ‘cause you don’t want to go in and buy a head of lettuce with a 20. The tank is nearly full, but you might need gas, too. I’ll ride the EL to work the next two days, and Bill or Dad will get me to the rehearsal -- to the wedding, too.”

She only acquiesced. Thursday night, though, he saw evidence that she had been there. Pete, the sexton, usually came in Thursday nights after rehearsals. After his dinner, he got in the church while the choir was coming out. He caught Pete there and told him about the wedding, the reception, and the rehearsal.

“Yeah, Pastor told me.”

“Well, I’m sorry to make extra work for you, but this might help.” He handed him two 20s.

“Why, thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome.” He went out and back to the apartment.

Friday, he left directly from court. Since he was on the EL, he got home well before 5:00. He showered, shaved again, and dressed in clean clothes except for his shoes. There was a call from Mom on his answering machine. They had started early;, Dad and Rachel having taken the day off. He called their motel and told Dad how to find his apartment. They came by at 6:30, and Dad gave him the wheel. He parked close to the church. Rev. Lawrence was there and let them in. Joan was already there, and Candy and her family came minutes later. Bill let Claire in, and they were all assembled.

Just what had to be rehearsed, he couldn’t tell. Of course, fancier weddings had more to be rehearsed. They went to Milano’s for the rehearsal dinner, and there were few enough people that Candy got to know his family. She drove him home, and they had a nice kiss in the car. The next time, they would be in their own home.

Saturday morning, he made the bed with all new bedclothes. He had cereal for breakfast. Dad picked him up, and he went to their motel for some family time.

“Really, Eric,” said Rachel. “She is a beauty. What does she see in you?”

“Somehow, that’s not a question I’ve asked her. And I’d appreciate your not asking the question either.”

“Isn’t she rather young?” Mom asked.

“19. That is, much as it may surprise you, over the age of consent.”

“Well, yes. But what does she do?”

“What you did at 19, and what Rachel and I did. She goes to school.” Actually, Candy had told him that she wasn’t going back this semester. The semester had already begun. But Mom didn’t have to know that.

“Really, dear.” Everyone was telling him ‘really.’

“Well, you know, yes, she’s younger than I am. But, since I’m older than she is, I’m established enough that I can support a family on my earnings alone.”

“Well,” Dad said, “she’s a lovely girl. I’m surprised that she’s not pressing for a huge, fancy wedding.”

“Dad,” Rachel said. She’d gone all out for her wedding. Dad had been happy enough at the time. If he could change one aspect of that wedding, it would be her choice of groom.

“I didn’t say anything about you.”

“Look,” Eric said, “she’s a different person. We’re all, each of us, particular individuals. Some things are important to one person, and some things are important to other persons. I just hope I can provide her with what is important to her.” That was truer than he was willing to explain. Yes, Candy needed him to be father of her child. In a year, however, she would need this much less. He had to become what she would need then, and he was determined to find out what that was.

They went out for lunch, and his family asked fewer personal questions in public. He got a rundown on Stan. He stopped at the florist’s for the bouquet and got to the church about 45 minutes before everything was to begin. He got his family seated on the left of the front pew and gave Rev. Lawrence the wedding license. When Candy’s family came in, he gave her mother the bouquet and went into the fellowship room, so Candy had freedom to come and go.

Bill got him, and they went around so that they came in the back. They stood to one side for a few minutes, and then Dennis played the wedding march and her father walked Candy down the aisle. She had always looked pretty, but she looked especially beautiful right then. The church, never full on a Sunday, was remarkably less full then.

The service went without a hitch. At the end, he kissed his bride. Bill ducked out, grabbing Dan Hagopian. Marge Hagopian and a couple of other women from UMW went through the reception line first. They proceeded to mix the punch. The line was done before Bill and Dan got back from the Thai place. They brought the wedding cake, too.

Marge shooed Candy and him to the long table at the back of the parlors. They sat there while Claire and Joan brought them their food. Everybody else got their own. After the meal they cut the cake, and people lined up for it. There was a table with some wedding presents on it. According to Mom and Mrs. Wharton, they weren’t supposed to open them then. They separated and went around giving thanks and getting congratulations.

When he thought that the time was ripe, he walked over to Candy and looked a question at her.